Page 45 of Hotter on Ice

“Just FYI...” He cleared his throat. “There’s a very...distinct-looking man staring at you intensely. He’s quite large.”

Alya’s heart jumped. No. It couldn’t be. Probably another one of the Blackmore Inc. guys. Henning had probably checked in with someone in the office to make sure they’d be there, just to make sure she was safe.

Still, she hoped. Damn, Alya had spent the week hoping. Wasn’t she done with it? If she turned around now and it wasn’t Henning, that was probably the one thing she couldn’t handle in front of a crowd.

“Aaaaand he’s coming this way,” added Nathaniel. “I don’t suppose you know who this is.”

“I might.”

Okay, she could do this. Just hold it all in. She had years of practice controlling her feelings, and it was time to put that experience to use. Her heart pounded harder in her chest, and she took another yoga breath, this one completely useless. Then, slowly, she turned.

“Henning?” She whispered his name as he stalked across the patio. She blinked, taking him in. He’d gotten a haircut, and he was wearing...a suit? In fact, he looked a lot closer to the cadet photo she’d found of him online, the one before the attack.

“I’m getting thetime-to-leave-us-the-fuck-alonevibe from him,” said Nathaniel quietly. “Strongly.”

“That’s about right.”

Was this real? Henning took a few last steps and stopped in front of her. Alya’s heart was pounding so hard she was sure everyone around them could hear it. She reached out to touch him but pulled her hand back as her mind kicked into gear. This was the man who had shot her down, and now he just showed up? Did he expect her to welcome him, just because he changed his mind?

She swallowed a lump in her throat and straightened up. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m here to say I’m sorry,” he said softly, his voice was raw, vulnerable.

Her heart stuttered. Oh, damn. She was so in love with this man. And he had the power to hurt her. She looked around, and sure enough, no one was hiding their curiosity.

She gestured to Nathaniel. “Henning, meet Nathaniel Woods, columnist forLuxurymagazine.”

Henning tipped his chin in Nathaniel’s direction. “I’ll be reading your column for the next six months to make sure this moment doesn’t end up there.”

Alya raised an eyebrow. “Unless that’s what I want.”

“Unless that’s what she wants,” echoed Henning in a low grumble.

Nathaniel smiled a little. “Well, I think that’s my cue to duck out of this conversation.”

He kissed Alya on the cheek and walked away.

For a moment that impenetrable mask was back on Henning’s face, but then he took a deep breath, relaxing, letting her see the longing in his eyes. It was painful to see. He looked like he’d been just as miserable as she had been since they returned from Sweden. His fingers flexed. Did he want to touch her as much as she wanted to touch him? If so, he held back.

“I messed up,” he said, his voice rough, “and I don’t know how to make it right. I have no experience with this. But I promise I’ll figure it out.”

Alya scanned the patio, taking in the other guests who surrounded them. The closest were in listening distance, and she caught a few more furtive glances their way.

She looked back at Henning and frowned. “You want to do this right here, in front of everyone?”

His jaw was clenched, and he looked like he was in the middle of some sort of internal debate. Then he closed his eyes and swallowed. “I don’t. I’ll leave if you ask me to.”

Alya blew out a frustrated sigh. She was still so mad at him, but, Lord, she had missed him. Tearing out the security cameras had felt like tearing out a whole piece of her, the last connection between them, forged during the most difficult years of her life. He had been there all along for her, and she had gotten over her fear slowly, so slowly, with so many missteps. Yes, he was allowed to have missteps, too, but this one seemed to scrape against her rawest wound. She knew all of these things, and yet Alya wasn’t ready to ask him to leave. At least not yet.

The longer she mulled this over, the more that look of intense determination settled into Henning’s expression. He opened his mouth to speak again, but she held up her hand. “Wait. Let’s go somewhere else.”

He nodded, looking a little brighter. Had he expected her to turn him away today? And he still came?

She scanned the area, looking for someplace with a little more privacy. There weren’t a lot of options completely out of sight, but the guests were mostly clustered in the shade of the enormous sails, so she nodded over to the sunniest corner, where at least they would be out of ear range at the far end of the patio. It was lined with a white pillared railing that looked out onto Sydney Harbour, decorated with a few large plants in terra-cotta pots. Alya headed for the shade of a planted palm. Henning’s hand brushed the small of her back as she walked, and for a moment, it felt as if they had rewound a week. They were so close. But his hand dropped almost immediately. They weren’t at the Icehotel anymore.

Alya found a little nook behind the fronds of the tree. She hadn’t spotted her sister yet, but if Natasha was watching, she was probably trying to get a better view. Max, too, and maybe even the whole Blackmore Inc. group. But right now, she needed a little space from the world.

She turned around to face Henning. He had wedged himself between the plant and the railing, and one leafy frond batted at his head. He brushed it away and looked down at her, the dark intensity of his eyes heavy. No one in the world looked at her like this, like he would get down on his knees for her, give her anything. The ache of their separation echoed between them, back and forth, turning her insides molten-hot, but she resisted reaching for him. Instead, she crossed her arms.